


Uncanny

by taehly



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Eventual Romance, M/M, Multi, eventual science party, unrequited helmet party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:13:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taehly/pseuds/taehly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soldier has a hit on him! An assassin, hired to kill the man, finds himself at odds with whatever magical luck Soldier has surrounding him. No matter. He intends to milk every dime he can out of this contract.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncanny

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Team Fortress 2 fanfiction. This is unbeta'd. Next chapter should have a beta though! Thank you for reading.

_“You want to me...as you say, end zhis man's life?”_

_The assassin flicks ash into the ashtray provided before him, blue eyes unimpressed by the man sitting before him. “I heard 'e was a tricky fellow to kill. Zhis requires long cover. My rates will double if zhis is what you are asking me.”_

_An annoyed hiss leaves the table's second occupant, but the Frenchman was not bothered. “Double! That wasn't what we agreed, you filthy, greedy little-”_

_The assassin lifts a hand, “That is enough, monsieur. I am the best at what I do. If you would like, you could find another assassin willing to take zhis task...?” The threat is there, and the sound of frustration makes the blue eyed man smile. “Oui. You will wire me the funds, and I will find a cover that is...appropriate to killing zhis man. 'e won't see it coming.” As he begins to stand, a hand grasps his wrist._

_“Don't underestimate him. He's tricky like that.” The assassin says nothing as he wrenches his hand away. Nothing is left him but a smoldering cigarette butt._

Two Months Later

“Merde. Cela ne fonctionne pas.”

A harsh suck on a cigarette is is heard in the heated silence of the night, blue eyes reflecting their annoyance, before the cigarette is crushed beneath a shoe. His shot had missed. How had he'd missed, when the idiot was right there? The assassin understood the basic mechanics of Respawn, knows the base had a limited range. But apparently the rumors of dumb luck weren't false. 

“Alright, monsieur, we will try again, oui?” The rifle is lifted again, a blue eye peering down the sight once more. “Perhaps ze wind is on my side this time.” Shot lined up, no laser sight – couldn't give away his position, no, and a slender finger pulls lightly on the hair trigger. The shot fires, cracking like lightning in the desert night.

And pings off the man's insufferable helmet.

“Est-ce que vous plaisantez! Êtes-vous sérieux – shit. Big fucking joke, oh ho ho, but your day is coming.” Two shots in one night was too suspicious, and he abandons his roost after quickly breaking down the rifle, stuffing it away in order to hurry down the wooden ladder. He darts away just quickly enough before he hears the voices.

“Croikey! You hear that bloody shot? Damn powerful rifle. Shit, Truckie..” It's the Sniper, clutching his shirt closed, barely dressed after the hurried exit from his camper. The Texan was striding from his workshop, a frown marring his genial features. “Who the bloody hell is up this time of night?” The Australian asks. He'd been startled awake by the first shot, alarmed by the second.

“I don't rightly know, pardner. My question is, what're they shootin' at.” The answer to the man's question comes stumbling over, rubbing at his bleeding head and holding his helmet. Dell's eyebrows shoot up at the dazed man's face, “Jesus, Solly! You alright?” The short man asks, concern covering his features.

“To answer your question, private...I don't know!” Soldier barks. Sniper's already yanking the man's helmet away to look at it, surprise coloring his features. 

“That's a shittin' bullet lodged in your helmet, Solly! You're lucky you didn't wake up in respawn!” Sniper says, marveling at the fact that the bullet hadn't even pierced through the metal – where the hell did Solly get this helmet? It wasn't the standard issue metal-lined-with-sawdust crap he usually wore on the field. 

“Don't think I would have woke up at all, Slim!” Soldier says as Engineer makes the man bend low enough to look at the wound on his head. “I was outside of Respawn range!” 

Engineer frowns, “Why were you out there so late, Solly? You know that's dangerous, pardner.” The wound seemed more a scratch than anything, but head wounds always bled the worst. He wipes the blood on his overalls. 

“Got a note, private!” The large man makes a show of digging through his pockets until he pulls out a note, brandishing it at the Engineer. The smaller man pulls his goggles off in order to squint at the spiky handwriting. 

_Meet near fifth largest rock, west side compound. Big surprise waiting._

“That's just downright suspicious, Soldier. Why'd you go out there without someone?” Engineer says, placing his hands on his hips, blue eyes narrowing angrily. Sniper feels a sudden sense of awkwardness come over him, engrossing himself with the Soldier's helmet, the Australian sensing he's about to be in the middle of an awkward domestic. 

“I thought you wrote the note, private! I went posthaste without any suspicions!” Soldier says, snapping his heels together. Sniper grimaces as he watches the smaller man's ears turn red. 

“That don't even look like my damn handwritin', Doe!” The Engineer only used the man's last name in extreme frustration. “How th'hell could you think that was me writin' the note!”

Sniper held his breath.

“I do not have an answer to that question!” Soldier replies promptly, and the Sniper rolls his eyes while he listened to Truckie make a sound much like a tea kettle ready to blow. That was the expected answer from the Soldier. Despite the grinding of the Texan's teeth, he runs his hands along his overall straps a couple times, then glares up at the sky briefly. Air leaves him in a gust.

“Awright..then let's get you back inside, Soldier...last thing we need are some snoopy BLU's comin' to figure out what the bustle is.” Engineer takes Soldier by the arm as the man snatches his helmet back from Sniper – who looks mildly startled – before he begins his march back to the base with Engineer. 

“Oh! I forgot t'say,” Comes the Texan's voice, voice a little sly, “Nice slippers, Mundy.” 

Again, Sniper is startled and has no answer as the Texan leaves with Soldier. Confused, he looks down to see he'd jammed his feet into the gag slippers Spy had gotten for his birthday last year. Smiling pink rabbit faces stare up at him.

“...Fuck.” 

Well that's just embarrassing. Sniper rubs at his cheek, trying to scrub the blooming red away as he shuffles away to his camper. He'd do a more detailed sweep of the area tomorrow. There was no scheduled battle, and it bothered him that the shot had come from somewhere near his van. A call to Miss Pauling in the morning would ease his frustrations a little, to alert the young woman of what had happened - no other person was authorized to used rifles beyond the Snipers, it was just how it was, and the alarms would have gone off if a BLU had encroached this far into their territory. 

"Ah, bugger it to hell." The Australian growls, then slams his door shut, locking it for good measure. He'd deal with it in the morning.


End file.
